


The Art of The Flirt

by Kelkat9



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Drinking, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Humor, Innuendo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-23
Updated: 2018-05-23
Packaged: 2019-05-10 09:10:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14734118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kelkat9/pseuds/Kelkat9
Summary: Jack and Rose discuss flirting.  The Doctor walks into the discussion and Rose makes some realizations about flirting and the Doctor.





	The Art of The Flirt

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a prompt for flirt, Doctor/Rose, Teen. No beta so I could get it posted. Sorry. I don't know why I have such an awful time posting but I do. I lost my italics and had to manually re-do them. Sorry if anything else is messed up. I consider myself lucky it posted at all.

Rose thought Jack was pulling one over on her. After a harrowing run for their lives trip, and over several glasses of the Doctor’s Villengardian Cognac, Jack confided all Time Agents had to pass a class on flirting.

“I’m not that drunk, Jack.” Rose swirled the amber banana cognac in her glass, eyeing Jack slouched into the Doctor’s favorite blue wingback reading chair.

“Rose, flirting is like commerce. A necessary skill for a good Time Agent.” He lifted the cut crystal decanter off the side table and poured himself another snifter of the cognac before continuing. “You see, it’s about fitting into the local culture, making friends and allies to obtain the objective.”

“With flirting?” Rose enjoyed the burn of the liquor, warming her in the way she wished a certain leather wearing Time Lord would.

“Just look at the Doctor.” Jack waved his snifter in the air toward the door the Doctor exited an hour earlier.

“The Doctor doesn’t flirt his problems away. At least not on purpose,” Rose mumbled into her glass.

“Well, he doesn’t always follow the traditional method. At least not with invaders, slavers, or your local despots,” Jack agreed.

“Traditional flirting?” Rose leaned forward on the table ignoring the game of Sorry she’d played with the Doctor the prior day. She poked at her mostly empty snifter, curious as to how Jack defined traditional flirting.

“There are five methods of flirting according to Agent Luriana Fazzil’s Art of the Flirt,” Jack lectured, and eased back, boots propped up on the blue damask ottoman. “The first method is Traditional, based on old Earth courting rituals dating back millennia.” He sipped his cognac, sucking in air, clearly enjoying the cloying burn down his throat.

“All right,” Rose acknowledged, and tugged at one of her braids, wondering how wrong Jack would get this. His knowledge of her time wasn’t always accurate, and she imagined millennia for him might mean he’d get things twisted. “So, tell me about this _traditional_ method of flirting.” She leaned on her hand ready to be amused.

“There are five elements.” He set down his glass and began counting on his fingers. “I’m open. I’m harmless. I’m interested. I’m approachable and lastly my favorite, I’m fertile.” He wiggled his fingers in the air, smirking.

Rose burst out in laughter, nearly knocking the game board and assorted books off the table.

“What?” he exclaimed, but with a slight laugh. “It worked on you.” He wagged a finger before leaning back, hands clasped behind his head, looking a bit too smug.

“It did not,” she retorted, sitting up, downing the last drop of her cognac while thinking back on a certain invisible space ship in front of Big Ben.

“Who fell into my arms, danced with me and ultimately invited me onto this magnificent ship?”

“The Doctor, because you saved London and were going to die,” she defended even if he was a little on point.

“Exactly!” Jack winked in emphasis.

The cognac relaxed her enough to play along with him. She leaned an elbow on the table, resting her cheek and watched her cocky friend enjoy another sip of cognac waiting for her to argue with him. She wasn’t ready to admit he was right, because there was more to him being there than being a flirt.

“I’ll give you the part about you being open,” she admitted. “Harmless is questionable. Although, you are interesting. It’s not every day a girl gets saved from plummeting to her death in an air raid. And you are very approachable. But flirting means the objective was something more than a con, which didn’t work, I might remind you.”

“Flirting is about more than romance. It’s about getting your foot on board to prove your intentions and give the objects of your affection a chance to experience your not unsubstantial charm. Sort of like how the Doctor go you aboard,” he verbally parried.

Rose sat back abruptly, eyeing Jack who maintained a predatory _I’m so on to you_ gaze. Rose wasn’t having any of it.

“First off, the Doctor’s not human and doesn’t think like human flirting.”

“He’s open,” Jack countered. “To you at least. He’s not a threat to you. Anyone who comes near you is another story. He’s always holding your hand which screams I’m interested and approachable. All that’s left is…well you tell me.”

Rose’s cheeks flushed hot. She had not thought about any of that the way Jack insinuated.

“All those things mean friendship. Except the last thing which isn’t my business.” But she really did want to know about that last thing or at the least if he had the fertile part that matched her fertile part. Curiosity and imagination left her squeezing her thighs together and warmth pooling low in her body. Damn Jack. He snickered and sat up clearly not ready too concede his point.

“Sorry, sweetheart, beyond traditional is the physical aspect of flirting which includes hand holding. Then there’s all the hugging. And intimate touches.” Jack sipped his drink, eyes never leaving her.

“Friends do that.” Okay her voice wavered slightly.

“The sincere flirt, compliments, asks questions, discusses things like flying the TARDIS or alien civilizations. He wants to be impressive.”

“Friends do that too.” She crossed her arms irritation picking at her. Was the Doctor flirting and she didn’t know it? No, it couldn’t be. He was nine hundred years old, brilliant and well, important. Not that Rose thought she was unimportant, but not like him. She did love to listen to his voice, that Northern burr that sank deep inside her until she vibrated to his voice sort of like him resonating concrete with his sonic.

Wait. Did she just think lusty sonic thoughts? She swallowed hard at the thought of what the sonic represented in a purely human sex obsessed way that the Doctor would never understand and she must never speak of. Even if she thought about it.

“And all that playful teasing?” Jack continued, poking at her _we’re just friends_ defense. “Dancing you around the console room proving he can dance?” Jack stood, sauntering over with the decanter and poured her another snifter of cognac. “You can’t deny his smiles are all for you. And you smile back at him like a double super nova. You two practically raise the temperature by ten degrees with the subtle touching and teasing. I mean this is sexual tension pretending to be flirting and about to be--”

“Jack,” the Doctor’s voice rang out from the doorway. Rose choked down a sip of the cognac, glancing from the glowering Doctor to Jack. Part of her couldn’t stop thinking about Jack’s allegations and a delicious warmth washed through her limbs that had nothing to do with cognac. Maybe she should test out this flirting theory. But how?

“I think you’ve had enough of my cognac.” The Doctor prowled through the room, lifting the decanter and shoving it in a cabinet which he soniced shut. Rose found her gaze drawn to a jean clad arse.

When the Doctor turned and caught her, she met his gaze head on.

“We were just having a post adventure night cap and talking about flirting. Did you know Jack took a class in it?” Rose asked, fingers tracing the rim of the snifter, imagining what it would be like to trace the shell of his ears.

“Like he needs a class. Humans of his time interpret everything as flirting.”

“Like holding hands?” Jack suggested, despite the oncoming storm planting himself tall and imposing with crossed arms looking like he was ready to toss a certain ex Time Agent out the door into the vortex.

“I told Jack friends do that, hold hands, I mean.” Rose’s gaze slipped to what she could see of the Doctor’s hands, long calloused fingers clenching into the leather of his coat.

“You don’t hold my hand,” Jack responded with a slight petulant tone.

“It tends to be busy keeping track of a Time Lord.” She directed a tongue teasing smile at the Doctor whose former stormy expression eased into a slight curve of his lips.

“And the Time Lord is fine with that because it keeps his trouble magnet companion from wandering off.” Rose grinned broadly and twisted her braid around her fingers. Now this was flirting, and she was getting the temptation to wander over to him and yank him down for a snog as a reward.

“Now who’s the expert on flirting,” Jack suggested. “Playful, sincere, physical mixed with I’m available, harmless, interested, approachable and all we need is--”

“For you to head back to your quarters,” the Doctor finished for him.

“Well that’s not an element but it could be for the two of you.” Jack drew out the words innuendo lacing his voice.

“Good night, Jack.” The Doctor stated in a commanding tone.

“I really need to work on my charm,” Jack quipped and set the snifter down in front of Rose. “Good night, sweetheart and don’t forget that last one.” He waggled his eyebrows and slipped out of the room.

“Guess I should get some rest too.” Rose stood and arched her back stretching her arms upward.

“Probably,” the Doctor admitted and walked next to her out into the corridor.

“You know what the last element was, right?” Rose thought what the hell, she might as well go for it. She could always plead too much cognac.

“Time Lord me,” he responded, his voice lowering until a pleasant shiver coursed up her spine. “And not usually fertile but for the right person with a little jiggery pokery, could be most effectively fantastic in that department and every other department related to it. If you were wanting to know, that is.” She stopped, and her jaw dropped. His gaze aimed right at her mouth. She licked her lips and stepped closer to him until she immersed herself in the scent of his leather coat mixed with machine oil and essence of Doctor.

“Actually,” she drew the word out and ran a palm up his maroon jumper until the double beat of his hearts raced across her finger tips. “I do. Very much. Without the fertility part and more with the virility part.”

“Could do now, if you want.”

“You think you’re so impressive.” Rose dug her fingers into his leather lapels.

“I am,” he admitted, his hands coming to rest on her hips. “And available, interested, approachable and who needs fertility?”

“Not me.” Rose yanked him down into a lip nibbling kiss that would lead to many tests on the Art of the Flirt or as Jack called it later, the Tactical Resolution of Sexual Tension.


End file.
